


The Mistral

by Jashasedai



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jashasedai/pseuds/Jashasedai
Summary: Inspired by the 2018 True or Lie Grill the GridPierre invites Charles to a cottage in the French Countryside during the windy part of the winter.





	The Mistral

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lecastellet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecastellet/gifts).



**The Mistral**

 

It came from Russia, legendary for driving madness before it, the Mistral, the French winter wind.  Pierre had brought in everything from outside the cottage that might blow away or be torn to shreds.  He liked Lyons, even in the winter, with the Mistral blowing fit to complete with McLaren’s wind tunnel.

He pulled the woolen, knitted blanket over the back of the couch and smoothed it, again.  He went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of espresso. It warmed the porcelain right away and then spread warmth through his hands.  A car was on the way up the road. Barreling along with no regard for what would commonly be considered road safety.

Here, they were Frenchmen to the core, and they drove with their hearts.  Lived with their hearts.

He pulled on his overcoat and pulled his Redbull beanie.

Charles had pulled up close to the house, and was hurriedly collecting arm loads of suitcases from the trunk.  He kissed Pierre on the cheek and left the last three bags for his host to collect.

Pierre sat on the bed while Charles unpacked his clothes into the cottage closet.

“I am starving.  Do you want me to cook something?” Charles asked.

“I cooked,” Pierre said, “I can cook.”

Charles snorted.  “You never cooked before.”

Pierre grinned mischievously.

Charles stared at him, jaw dropping as an idea occurred to him and took hold in surety.  “You got take out and you’re claiming you cooked it, didn’t you?”

Pierre’s eyes went wide.  “N...No! I cooked it!”

“Well what is it, then?”

“Coq au vin!”

“Just like the restaurant in the village??” Charles moved towards the kitchen and Pierre moved off the bed to the door to intercept him.  Pierre had a dopey grin on his face.

Charles ducked past him and vaulted over the couch.

“Hey!”  Pierre stepped up over the couch after him and reached him as he wrenched the lid off the trash can- revealing storage containers.  Pierre dropped his hands.

Charles pointed at the takeout containers in triumph.  “Did you get the  _ idea _ from Grill the Grid?”

Pierre’s mouth twisted up as he tried to hide the smile.

Charles laughed.  He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Pierre’s shoulders, pushing him backwards.  Pierre grabbed his arms, turning the push into a contest of strength, and then a wrestling contest as Charles resisted.  They fell onto the couch, then rolled off onto the floor, coming to rest beside the fireplace, with Charles pinning Pierre down.

He pinned Pierre’s wrists over his head.  Pierre didn’t resist, just raised his hips a little.

“You’re being naughty,” Charles murmured against Pierre’s ear.  “I thought we agreed to trust each other.” His whisper made Pierre shiver.  “How can I trust you if you try to trick me?”

“I was bad,” Pierre agreed.

“I’m going to have to punish you.  Give you a good hard spanking, or maybe take your clothes away and leave you that way all weekend.  Maybe I’ll let you have an apron, and you’ll be the maid.”

Pierre rocked rhythmically against Charles’ thigh.  “Yes. Alright. All of that.”

“Hmm, no, I get to pick,” Chalres said.

“Pick them all!” Pierre begged.

Charles nuzzled his face.

Pierre leaned up, trying to kiss Charles’ full lips, but Charles leaned away.  Pierre tried to move his hands where Charles was gripping them, so Charles would be pulled into range.

He pinned him firmly again.  Pierre gave up, lifting his chin.  Chalres kissed his neck, nibbling at his throat.

“I can’t get naked when you are holding me down,” Pierre said.

Charles considered this.  “That is true,” He said.

He got up, holding a finger in front of Pierre, until he was out of range of any retaliatory grabs.  “Go in the bedroom, get on your bed, and wait for me.”

Pierre rolled to his feet and vaulted back over the couch.  He stripped out of his clothes and tossed them into the wardrobe.  He arranged himself on the bed, on his belly, slightly at an angle, so his hard, muscular body was all presented to the door.

He waited a long time.

Charles didn’t appear in the doorway.

He started to get up, but Charles wouldn’t like that.  He waited longer.

“Charles?” He called, after another wait.

“Yes Pierre?” Came a voice, casually, from the living room.

“Are you...going to come in here?”

“Yes.”  It didn’t sound like a matter of any urgency, though.

“Tonight?” Pierre asked.

“When I am done.”

“Done?”

Pierre got up.  He pulled on his bathrobe, and went out into the living room.

Charles was sitting at the table, with candles lit, and a plate of the restaurant coq au vin in front of him.  He’d opened one of Pierre’s bottles of wine and had poured a glass of it.

Pierre stopped.

“You are eating without me?”

Charles looked up at him.  “I am hiding the evidence of your deception.”  He was trying to keep a straight face, but Pierre saw right through it.

Pierre laughed at the good trick and sat himself on Charles’ lap.  “Let me help you.”

Charles fed him a bite of specialty coq au vin.

It was delicious.  It melted in his mouth.

Charles followed it with a brush of his lips over Pierre’s.  He brushed his hand over the small of Pierre’s back and then deepened the kiss.  Pierre practically melted in Charles’ mouth. He draped his arms around him.

“I trust you,” Charles said, when the kiss had eased to a natural conclusion.

“I love you.  I want to make you happy,” Pierre told him.  He picked the fork up and fed Charles a bite of the coq au vin.  “And isn’t it delicious?”

Charles savored the bite and then fed one to Pierre.  “Not as delicious as you.”

Pierre wriggled on his lap.  He kissed Charles’ neck. They finished the entire plate of dinner, and drank the delicious wine, interspersed with tastes of each other’s lips and skin.

When they finished, they walked hand in hand to the bedroom and lay down, and then they sampled each other’s pleasures.   
  



End file.
